


Unchanged

by Selenic



Series: Unbreakable [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Captain America: The First Avenger, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, POV Steve Rogers, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Tent Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-19 20:01:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20662940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selenic/pseuds/Selenic
Summary: Steve's feelings for Bucky hadn't changed. But they were both different men now, especially Steve, and he wasn't sure what the consequences would be to their relationship.





	Unchanged

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place after Bucky has been rescued from the prison camp. You don't have to read the previous stories for this to make sense, but it'll give more perspective on things :)
> 
> Thank you to the lovely Brumeier for the beta, any remaining mistakes are mine.

Unchanged

Steve didn't need to turn around to know who had entered. The air in the small military tent changed as soon as Bucky stepped in, not just because the smell of the rain pushed in with him and a rush of cold tried to invade what little warmth the portable Coleman stove and Steve's restless presence had managed to create. There was also this nearly tangible charge that filled the short space between them, creating an instant pull towards the other man that made Steve sway on his feet.

"Finally," Bucky huffed as the tent flap fell with a heavy, wet sound. "Don't know how many damn times I've gotta tell the Doc I'm fine until he believes me." He stomped his feet a few times, no doubt to get rid of the mud that must be caked all over his shoes. Once it had started raining, water had poured down in an endless torrent, turning the camp grounds into a trampled slur. As much as Steve didn't want to ask for special treatment, he was grateful that Peggy had somehow secured a small officer's tent for him. It meant there was room enough to stand, the grass on the ground was drier, and they had at least the illusion of privacy for the few hours they had before the camp was to be packed up and ready to move. She'd known they'd need it.

"He's got plenty of reasons to be thorough," Steve replied, still keeping his eyes on the dark green canvas ahead of him. He'd seen the bruises on Bucky's body, the needle marks on his arms. "You've been through a lot, more than many people could withstand." But it wasn't the only reason he found it hard to look at Bucky. They hadn't been alone like this since the night before Bucky left for the front lines, and the prospect of what might happen made Steve nervous like nothing in his life before. They had both been different men then, especially Steve.

Bucky grunted sullenly and Steve heard him remove some of his soaked clothing and throw them over a supply trunk where they landed with a sodden splat. There was a dry set of clothes waiting for him on one of the two bunks, similar to what Steve was already wearing, but Bucky didn't seem to notice or care and headed straight for Steve instead.

Icy fingers sneaked into the warmth of Steve’s sweater and the t-shirt underneath, gentle and inquisitive as they ran up his sides. Steve shivered, and not only from the sudden touch of cold. Bucky’s shirtless, damp body pressed against Steve's back, and he instinctively leaned into it. Bucky's closeness felt so familiar, yet also strangely new, but the feelings it evoked were still the same. Heat followed in the wake of those cold fingers, and a happy ache filled Steve's heart as Bucky hummed into the skin of his neck—and instead of having to lean down, Bucky now had to push up just a little to reach it. He smelled of rain, wet dirt, and home, and he was alive. Yet the memory and the fear of almost losing him still haunted Steve.

"Steve, I'm fine," Bucky said soothingly, as if reading Steve's mind, while his cool hands continued their exploration, learning the curves of Steve's new form. That he was curious about it instead of put off by it was a relief at least. "I'm here, I'm alive, and so are you," Bucky continued, "And we're finally alone. So why do I feel like you're hiding from me?"

Steve knew he couldn't hide anything from Bucky, he just wasn't sure how to explain things to him. During their long walk back from behind enemy lines, Steve's joy at finding Bucky alive had slowly transformed into something else as the reality of their situation sank in. Steve's feelings for Bucky were unchanged, but his body wasn't, and there were consequences to that which Steve hadn't thought of until Bucky was back in his arms.

"Because I'm scared." The words just spilled out whether Steve wanted them to or not. Bucky stilled. Droplets of water fell from his hair onto Steve's shoulder, seeping into his sweater.

Slowly, hands never leaving Steve's skin, Bucky circled around to face him. "Of what?" he asked with a puzzled frown, but his mouth still curved into a smile, and then Bucky leaned in closer to give Steve light, teasing kisses, inviting him to respond. Bucky's lips were cool against his, teeth careful but sharp as Bucky nipped at his mouth, his shuddering breath a hot caress against Steve's skin, and Steve couldn't help but give in.

His hands reached for Bucky, grabbing the rain-cold body and hungrily pulling Bucky closer until his feet left the ground. Bucky chuckled and went with it, wriggling his hands from under Steve's sweater and into his hair, grasping at the short strands, his heavy shoes scraping at Steve's thighs on their way up as his legs tangled around Steve's waist. Their kisses shifted quickly from light to greedy, dire in their need and longing, broken only by hasty gasps for air and breathy moans.

All Steve could feel, all he could think about, was Bucky. Bucky, who he thought he'd lost, who'd been hurt, who was so cold and bruised in his arms, but thank God, so alive. Steve wanted to warm Bucky up, push heat into that body and the mouth he now claimed, to hold him and never let go. His fingers instinctively tightened their grip on Bucky's sides, and suddenly Bucky yelped with pain. Steve's world stopped, frozen in a moment of pure terror.

Steve lost his hold on Bucky, shaking with the shock of what he had done. Bucky's feet landed heavily on the ground, and he nearly fell over when Steve tried to back away from him. Bucky struggled to stand, uttering a quiet '_damn did that sting' _while he searched for balance. Steve recovered just enough to catch him by the arms. Then they just stood still, panting, Bucky holding his head low, and Steve's heart wouldn't stop pounding in his chest.

"Of this!" Steve shouted, desperate and terrified and angry. "I'm scared of this!" Steve let go of Bucky and spread his arms wide. "This body, it's so much stronger and faster and bigger than it used to be. And I've learned to cope with that, learned how it moves and how much it endures and how fast it heals. But I can't..."

Bucky slowly straightened up to face Steve. He still looked like something hurt, but not too severely, and his eyes were full of questions. Steve almost didn't know how to go on, almost didn't want to, because of what it could mean for them. He backed as far away from Bucky as the small tent allowed, unsteady on his feet, wanting nothing more than to go back to Bucky and pull him close again. But he couldn't.

"I can't control myself when I'm with you like this, Bucky," he said. "You always make me lose myself, in you, in how you make me feel, in how much I want you."

"Thought that was kinda the point," Bucky shot back, clearly pleased he could bring Steve to such a state.

"Bucky, I'm serious." It hadn't been a problem with Steve's pre-serum form—no matter how far Steve would push the limits of it, how tight he would hold on to Bucky when he got immersed in pleasure and forgot the world around him, he never could have caused the kind of damage his new body was capable of. "I'm scared I'll hurt you if I forget my strength. And I couldn't live with myself if I—"

Steve stopped when Bucky started grinning. He shook his head briefly, looking more relieved now than confused.

"Guess the tables have finally turned," Bucky said and chuckled, walking to the bunk with the dry clothes, picking up a sweater, and pulling it on while Steve watched speechlessly. He wasn't sure if Bucky had taken him seriously or not. Bucky was still smiling when he sat down on the bunk, a damp blotch forming under his wet behind, and gestured for Steve to take a seat on the opposite bed. Steve hesitated, but did as requested.

"Steve, you are _not_ going to kill me with sex." Bucky tried to sound serious, but apparently he couldn't stop smiling for some reason. Heat rose to Steve's face.

"This is not something you wanna joke about, Bucky," he replied, a touch embarrassed, and more than a little irritated by Bucky's laid-back approach. "I hurt you but a minute ago and you just—"

"You hit a bruise," Bucky cut him off softly. "Made by an overeager guard with too much time and a blunt instrument on his hands. That's all you did, Stevie. You've never hurt me, and you never will, trust me on this." Steve wanted to believe him, but even as his gaze fell to his hands—so different from the ones he'd used to hold Bucky before, strong enough to tear muscle, to break bones—he couldn't escape the thought that Bucky was wrong. Bucky sighed, frustrated and a little sad.

"God, Stevie, didn’t you notice how gentle you were with me?" Bucky said, his hands firm as they trapped Steve's head between them and made him look up. "You needed only an ounce of the strength you have to pick me up, and that's all you used. Like you were holding a fancy porcelain plate or somethin'." Bucky frowned like he resented being treated as something fragile, but his tone was playful. "I don't break that easy, and you should know better than anyone just how resilient people can be."

That barely eased Steve's mind even though Bucky was right.

"Bucky, I..." Steve didn't know how to continue, how to make Bucky understand.

The tables really had turned. Usually it was Steve who was trying to convince Bucky of his resilience, to persuade him to put aside his worry and trust that Steve wouldn't break. He hadn't quite phrased it like Bucky had, but his argument had been the same. For the first time, Steve got a glimpse of what the situation must have been like for Bucky—no wonder he'd taken so long to come around. Yet Steve couldn't help but think this was different. Before being injected with the super soldier serum, Steve had spent a lifetime getting used to the body he'd had then. He'd only had around five months to learn the ropes with the new one, and none of it had included anything as overwhelming as sex with Bucky was likely to be.

The steady sound of the rain on canvas filled the silence that fell between them while Steve pondered and worried. Eventually Bucky withdrew his hands and got up, then started to remove the rest of his wet clothing and his boots, unabashed as he'd always been, and Steve couldn't look away. But the more skin was revealed, the more conflicted Steve became.

"Bucky," Steve whispered, the name falling from his lips as full of mixed emotions as Bucky's body was coloured with the marks of his ordeal. Bucky stopped undressing, and for a moment stood defiantly in front Steve wearing nothing but the green-gray sweater, shivering a little as his bare feet sat in the cold grass and dirt. Steve's hand reached out on its own, fingers tracing a half-healed scrape up on Bucky's thigh, following the line of it to a fading bruise on his lower abdomen that disappeared under the hem of the sweater. To think he could never hold Bucky again was unbearable, but just as unbearable was the thought of hurting him.

Bucky took off the sweater too, revealing all of himself to Steve. Apart from being injured and slightly thinner than before, he was as beautiful as ever.

"You think you don't know your body, but you do," he told Steve, stepping closer, climbing into Steve's lap and straddling him the best he could on the springy bunk, trapping Steve between his thighs. "You've spent so much of your life conscious of what it can and can't do, that you don't even have to be aware of it anymore." As he spoke, Bucky tugged at Steve's sweater until Steve yielded, lifting his arms up so Bucky could pull it over his head and throw it aside on the bunk. The t-shirt swiftly followed. Steve should have resisted more, but his longing for Bucky made him weak, and what he was hearing was starting to crumble his resolve.

"The Steve Rogers I know would never hurt me, just as he would never hurt anyone he cares about, or anyone who wouldn't deserve it. Your outsides might have changed, but inside it's still you." Bucky's hands cradled his face again. "You once asked me to trust you to know your limits. I did then, and I do now. So should you." As if declaring the discussion over, Bucky kissed him, and Steve had no resolve left to fight him.

Bucky tasted of medicine and toothpaste, their mixed flavour dissolving on Steve's tongue until all that was left was Bucky, and the heat and wetness of his mouth as he showed Steve just how unafraid of him he was, how alive and hungry for him. Steve wrapped his arms around him, pulling Bucky against his own skin, touching him, remembering him, relearning how they fit together. Though changed, his body hadn't forgotten a single thing.

Still, some things were new, and _better_. The weight of Bucky on him, carefree and heavy now that Steve could easily hold it all. The continuous, thunderous beat of Steve's heart that no longer needed calming. The hasty breaths stolen between kisses, now more than enough to keep Steve breathing. But the eager surge of blood filling Steve's cock, and the yearning inside him, were still the same.

"Bucky," Steve pleaded, knowing just how little time they had. "I haven't, I didn't—"

"I did," Bucky said, and the grin he had on his face as he pulled back was lustful and devious. He twisted out of Steve's grasp and got up, grabbed his wet pants again and hurriedly searched through the pockets until he found a small tube and presented it proudly to Steve. "Medical lubricant, stole one while the Doc wasn't looking."

"So you had this in mind all along," Steve said, and smiled even as he shook his head and gave a resigned sigh. He should have known; this was Bucky after all, resourceful as ever.

“Well of course,” Bucky announced as he uncapped the tube and squeezed some of the lubricant on his hand. “But let’s put a new twist on things,” he said, and to Steve’s surprise reached behind him to apply the stuff. The look on his face when his fingers touched their target was one of concentration and awaiting curiosity.

“You want me to...” Steve ran out of words, feeling oddly bashful all of a sudden, but his mind was already imagining what it would be like to be inside Bucky, to be a part of him in a way he’d never been able to before.

“Yeah,” Bucky breathed out, while he continued his exploration with clear pleasure. “I want you to, so much.” He tossed the lubricant on the bed and curled the freed hand around his already erect cock and began moving it in a lazy rhythm. He was putting on quite the display, and there was no denying that it turned Steve on. He stood up slowly, eyes never leaving Bucky, and also took off the rest of his clothes. Bucky watched him just as hungrily, taking in every revealed detail of Steve’s new body, including that one part of Steve he was preparing to take in.

“I see that has grown like the rest of you,” Bucky noted approvingly, and without a hint of fear at the sight.

“You’re sure about this?” Steve couldn’t stop from asking even as he stepped closer. Bucky just pushed up to kiss him, to tell him to just shut up already. He pulled back with a wicked smile.

“Didn’t I tell you came prepared,” he said and briefly spun around to show Steve how his fingers slid in and out of him with ease. “It’s not like I haven’t experimented before. Thought I should give it a try too, since you always seem to enjoy it so much when I do it to you.” Steve really shouldn’t have been surprised, this was Bucky after all—_his_ Bucky, his beautiful, amazing Bucky, who never shied away from new adventures.

Bucky’s hand slid around Steve’s cock, spreading the rest of the lubricant on it with deliberate, teasing slowness as he sought out Steve’s lips again, conveying with his hand and mouth the extent of his desire, his longing, and of his love. Steve embraced him, wrapping his arms around Bucky as gently as he could, and Bucky responded by pushing his hard cock between them, into the nest of slick fingers already holding Steve, sliding against him just as his tongue was in Steve’s mouth—slippery, hot, languid, as if they had all the time in the world to enjoy each other.

“Pick me up again,” Bucky murmured against Steve’s lips, pleading, demanding. “Put it in me.” Steve didn’t stop to think and worry anymore. He grabbed Bucky by his sides and hauled him up, and Bucky’s legs wrapped around his waist, one arm clinging to his neck while the other guided Steve’s cock toward the slickened fold of his ass, pushing the head against the loosened ring of muscle hidden there. Hanging on to Steve, he slowly exhaled and pushed down. They both gasped when Steve started sliding in. Bucky’s eyes closed with concentration, but his mouth remained open in wonder, small sounds of pleasure coming out unhindered and unrestrained as he slowly filled himself with Steve.

“So... _full_,” he stuttered breathlessly when he was done. “_So... good_,” he moaned, legs tightening around Steve, both his arms grabbing him for support. Bucky felt hot, his insides tight yet soft as they squeezed and twitched around Steve’s cock. And then Bucky started moving, and the rest of the world stopped existing for Steve.

The rain outside grew louder, beating on the tent with a roar, but all Steve could hear was Bucky, every gasp, moan, plea and cry from him pouring heat into Steve just like the steady blue flame of the stove raised the temperature inside the small tent. Steve’s mind was lost in the moment, lost in Bucky, lost in pleasure, but his hands were firm as they held on to Bucky, his strong legs keeping balance without a single thought even as Bucky’s movements became faster, more frantic. Soon they were just a sweaty mess desperately clinging on—to each other, to life—and racing towards the impending climax.

Suddenly Bucky dug his fingers deep into Steve’s shoulder’s, his whole body arching back as he took Steve in as deep as he could, and then the warmth of his come was spreading over Steve’s chest and stomach. Bucky made no sound, barely seemed to breathe for a while, and then everything inside him was tight, so tight, and alive with his orgasm. Steve’s body moved on its own, harder, faster, the urge to be even closer to Bucky driving his every thrust, and when Bucky finally drew air and cried out, Steve came inside him, the orgasm shaking him to the core. And no matter the shape of his body or the strength of it, after it was over Steve collapsed, taking the exhausted Bucky down with him and slipping out of him as they fell.

For a while they just lay there, side by side on the now blissfully cool ground. Then Steve glance over to Bucky—they were both smiling like fools, too happy for words. Bucky inched closer to kiss Steve again, a slow and sloppy kiss, tired but content.

“See, still alive and well,” Bucky whispered, teasingly echoing what Steve had said to him after the first time he’d persuaded Bucky to fuck him. But he said it with tenderness as well. Now they both understood better how the other had felt, and that was all that mattered.

“You know I never said thank you,” Bucky continued more seriously. He reached out to brush aside a damp lock of hair from Steve’s face, his touch lingering on Steve’s cheek before passing over his lips.

“For what?” Steve asked, kissing the fingers gently.

“For coming for me,” Bucky said, and if Steve hadn’t known him for as long as he had, he might have missed the sliver of fear in Bucky’s voice, the brief shadow in his eyes. Steve pulled Bucky close to him, squeezing their sticky bodies together.

“I will always come for you, Bucky. Always.”

“You’d better,” Bucky replied, the tension in him fading. “Or I’ll make you regret it. I know all your dirty secrets.”

“And you’re the best and dirtiest of them,” Steve told him and rolled Bucky on top of him.

“Punk,” Bucky whispered, and leaned in to give him a brief kiss and nipping his lips.

“Jerk,” Steve huffed and grabbed Bucky’s ass, returning the favour, only this time the kiss stretched on for quite a bit longer, and Steve learned that the accelerated recovery speed of his new body extended equally to all parts. Bucky chuckled, his thigh rubbing against Steve’s perking up cock.

“You think we have time for another round?” Bucky asked, but Steve’s reply was interrupted by the thump and clang of a heavy bucket being set on the ground. They saw a graceful hand vanish behind the tent flap, and indeed, a large bucket of steaming hot water with a small towel folder over the side had appeared just beside the entrance. There was even a bar of soap perched on top of the towel.

“Whatever you boys are planning, the tent needs to be packed up and ready to leave in an hour.” Peggy Carter calmly told them, but Steve could detect a hint of amusement in her words. “I expect you to be ready by then, or I won’t be responsible for the consequences, Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes.” Then a set of boots stomped away in the mud.

“You seem to have made an interesting friend while I was gone,” Bucky noted, his eyebrows lifting inquisitively.

“Yes, I have,” Steve said, and smiled. He’d owe Peggy big time for this, but it was a debt Steve was more than happy to accept. “So, round two?” he asked, and Bucky’s grin was beautifully lustful and pleased.

“A soldier shouldn’t need more than ten minutes to wrap things up,” he announced resolutely. “And since I have Captain America to help me out, it’ll take even l—“

Steve didn’t even let him finish the sentence. The rain would keep pouring, the small stove would keep working for a while longer, and inside their little tent they had everything in the world they needed for now. They could make the hour last almost forever.

~~~ End ~~~

**Author's Note:**

> For those interested: [the portable Coleman stove](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/G.I._pocket_stove) and [how it works](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MrImgUNkHEY) :) (yes, I actually researched how the tent could be heated up :D)
> 
> And forgive me that Peggy Carter makes such a brief appearance, I guess I should one day write a fic about how she and Steve got to be friends like that... She's just too awesome to be just a side note in a story :)


End file.
